


pocket boyfriends ficlet

by misspamela



Series: pocket boyfriends [3]
Category: Monsta X (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, M/M, Napping, Predebut Bangtan, Soft cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 14:23:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15145049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspamela/pseuds/misspamela
Summary: “Mmmhmm,” Kihyun said, sounding like he was drifting off too. “But I have to pay him back for half the dinner.” He kissed the top of Yoongi’s head. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I’m proud of you. God, you were--” His arms tightened around Yoongi for a second. “I’m so proud of you.”





	pocket boyfriends ficlet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spuzz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuzz/gifts).



> Happy birthday, spuzz! I hope you like it. Thank you to pearlo for the beta.

After Bangtan debuted, it was weeks before he and Kihyun could see each other again. The music show promotions were more grueling than Yoongi could have imagined. He thought he knew. Yoongi thought he understood hard work and exhaustion and hunger more than anyone else except the six guys next to him, but promoting? That was another level. There was no sleep, but he couldn’t look like he had no sleep. Hair and makeup had to be touched up and retouched and fussed with. He was so tired, but he had to be on for the cameras. They were shoved into a corner backstage with all of the other rookie groups, who were either ignoring them or giving them the side-eye. Bang Sihyuk’s weird hip hop project with the terrible name, not pretty enough to be flower boys, not big and strong enough to be masculine tough guys.

The senior groups looked so polished, going back to their private dressing rooms with their cadre of staff trailing behind them. Even the groups just a few months older than them seemed to have it down, changing quickly from street clothes to stage outfits without disturbing their perfectly glossed lips. The girl groups spent the whole time on towering, skinny heels and had to look not just rested but happy. Perky. Thrilled to be there, hanging on every word from the MCs. They were terrifying and strong and Yoongi kind of wanted to tell them that, but they’d had the fear of god drilled into them by the managers: No looking at girls, no speaking to girls, no being within three feet of girls when you weren’t onstage, the last thing they needed was a scandal before they started, and so on and so forth. It was fine, they needed to focus, and Yoongi had a boyfriend anyway, and the only good part about the whole scenario was Jungkook, who was acting very fifteen and looked like he was going to physically explode if one of the girls so much as looked at him. 

Yoongi took a picture of him and sent it to Kihyun. _jungkookie’s gonna die kekekeke_

He didn’t get a response before they had to go on stage, which was fine. It was totally fine, they’d been communicating through a series of missed texts and late night or early morning exhausted phone calls.

After the show, they waved to the small knot of fans waiting for them outside. Yoongi tried to remember their faces, looking at them closely. He smiled for them, even though he was tired and overwhelmed, his makeup feeling tacky on his sweat-soaked skin. He looked down at his outfit, the cheap-looking gold and black, and up at the cluster of girls, huddled together next to the larger crowds for the senior artists, and he felt panicky, anxiety clawing its way up his throat. _I look ridiculous_ , he thought. _Fuck, what are we doing?_ Namjoon seemed to notice his distress and threw his arm around Yoongi, but it didn’t do much to settle his nerves. 

When he got home, he had a text from Kihyun. _you did great, i watched the whole thing_. Yoongi drew in a shaky breath and closed his eyes. They did great. It was just the start. There would be more shows, everyone had to start somewhere. Creeping in on his anxiety, he felt a thread of excitement. God, how many people had head his song today? Thousands? Tens of thousands? It was impossible to imagine, but it was real. 

He wanted to tell Kihyun about it, but the words got stuck somewhere along the way. Kihyun wasn’t close to debuting; Starship didn’t even have a boy group on the horizon right now. Sistar was doing so well that any talks of developing another group kept getting pushed back. That was the way it went, you never knew who was going to make it, and it sure wasn’t about talent alone, but Yoongi still felt like an ass complaining about something Kihyun might never get the chance to experience.

They had a day between one show and the next; not even a day, something like 18 free hours in which they had the chance to eat and sleep and hydrate, treat their injuries. Yoongi just opted for sleep. He ate two massive bowls of ramyeon and a protein bar, guzzled two bottles of water, and crawled into his bunk. The other guys were there, buzzing around somewhere, some of them already sleeping, but Yoongi didn’t care. They could wake him up seven minutes before their next schedule, not a second sooner. The second his head hit the pillow, he passed out.

…….

 

Something edged its way into Yoongi’s consciousness. Warmth, along one of his sides. Hands. Moving gently at first, then pushing. A voice. _”Yoongi.”_

Whatever was happening, there was no fucking way it was time to get up. Yoongi flailed out with one fist, connecting with something soft. “Off,” he muttered. 

“Ow, ow, you fuck,” and that-- oh shit, that was a voice he wasn’t expecting to hear. Yoongi opened his eyes and struggled up on one elbow, blinking blearily at Kihyun. Kihyun hit him on the shoulder, knocking him back into the pillow. “Fuck, that hurt.” 

“What…?” Yoongi looked around the room quickly, looking for the others, but he couldn’t stop his hand from sliding over Kihyun’s waist and pulling him closer. He was here and real and smelled so good, freshly showered with a light touch of the cologne he always wore. Yoongi buried his face in Kihyun’s neck. 

“The guys are out,” Kihyun said, getting comfortable on Yoongi’s pillow. “They’re going to have a nice, long dinner and then ice cream after. We have hours. Your manager is with them.” 

Yoongi was incredibly happy to see him and yet also tired beyond anything he’d felt before. He wanted to see Kihyun so badly, but he also wanted to sleep _so badly_. Kihyun seemed to catch his mood and shook his head. “I’m here to nap with you,” he said. “Go back to sleep.” He put his hand on Yoongi’s forehead and shoved him down. “I have an alarm set, I’ll leave in time.” 

“How,” Yoongi mumbled, but he was already closing his eyes. 

“I had an accomplice,” Kihyun said smugly. “A man on the inside.”

“Jin,” Yoongi said. He wrapped his arms around Kihyun and tangled them together, arms and legs intertwined. 

“Mmmhmm,” Kihyun said, sounding like he was drifting off too. “But I have to pay him back for half the dinner.” He kissed the top of Yoongi’s head. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I’m proud of you. God, you were--” His arms tightened around Yoongi for a second. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Yoongi wanted to say something, wanted to say he was proud of Kihyun too, that this industry was bullshit, it was all bullshit, that he was going to debut, that he was too talented to sit in Starship’s basement forever, but he couldn’t get it all out. The dark and the quiet and the scent of Kihyun’s cologne was lulling him to sleep. He mumbled something, but Kihyun shushed him, whispering against his hair. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ll be here.”

**Author's Note:**

> twt: @fictionalmissp


End file.
